Neon Bachelorettes

“I still get the $3,000 you owe me, right?”

52nd St. Manhattan 

New York City

1999

“I still get the $3,000 you owe me, right?”

Cigar smoke and neon lights caress a bar.

Back-lit, wavy liquor shelves. A bartender serves up cocktails to fancy dressed patrons.

It’s a chic cocktail lounge.

Layered, rippled designs on ceilings, glitter, hanging glass ball pedant lights.

Patrons at the bar, and behind them, a lounge area for guests eating meals on leather couches. Smoking, chatter, occasional bursts of laughter. Smokey neon. Jazz. Luxe.

At the furthest end, floor-to-ceiling windows lined with round, two-seater tables. And tall, brass chairs.

Two young women sit at a table.

They’re locked in hard stares.

One of them exhales from a cigar with a smile: 26-yr-old Raven, “Right, your three grand. You’re really going to act like you didn’t hear what I just said.”

Her wild, golden, curly hair is pulled to the center of her head like a mohawk – “faux hawk” – that falls down her back. Bouncy bangs cover her forehead.

Her legs are crossed underneath a short, frilly skirt. She’s twisted away from the table, a cocktail in front of her.

“No, I heard. You’re broke. For doing things I warned you about. Again. The excuse is tired, Raven. Not the most pleasant way to start our lunch date.”

says the other woman peering through Raven’s cigar smoke between them– 27-year-old Anatolia.

Auburn hair in a tight bun. Office casual wear, poised and proper, but still femme chic and stylish.

It would look like she wears glasses — she has that bookish face — but she doesn’t, and instead has these big hazel eyes.

Steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

She cocks her head at Raven. Waiting for a different response.

Fun girl Raven laughs as she blows out of her cigar.

“Yeh, I do vaguely remember you saying something along the lines of it being a bad idea.”

Anatolia raises her brow and sips from her coffee.

“So, yeh. I’m broke! But! You were still only partly right.”

Cutlery clanks on a plate from somewhere in the lounge.

“This bank-breaking trip turned out to be an investment— “

“Investment! It was a fling-funded impulsive evasive trip…”

Raven laughs, “Sure, but—”

“Why won’t you ever learn to face your problems head-on?”

“BUT… It did pay off. In this way: I’m starting a whole new chapter. I’m asking for time from a different vantage point. I’m independent now. I’m not going back to the agency.”

Anatolia stares at her.

Raven raises her brows, a silent exchange.

A light drizzle hits on the glass wall and people outside on the streets start opening umbrellas.

Rain drops slide down on the window beside her.

Anatolia readjusts and sips her coffee.

“Oh-kay. How’s two weeks sound?”

“Two weeks?”

“For, at least, some insight into your progress. In two weeks. Hopefully, your foray as a consultant lands some hot clients. And I can get my money by the end of the month.”

“Settled, then. And that’s real. I mean, I’m already presenting propositions. One prospect’s hotel marketing campaign and another in beauty. **I’ll… definitely keep you updated.” Raven says as she puffs on her cigar.

The light drizzle stops, and soft sun rays gently glow on the window. New York passing by on a partly cloudy day.

“So! well then. Lia! Now that the money talks outta the way… tell me about your trip.”

Anatolia sips from her tasse-a-café and puts it on a side.

A waiter comes around, takes it away, and puts down a glass of wine.

“Thank you.”

She turns back to Raven.

“Busy.”

Raven laughs and shakes her head.

“Shake off the money talk, Lia. I hate when you get like this. I’m already up on some promising prospecting; I’m off to an ok start. I have good support.”

“Your flings.”

“Haha, not just flings after-all, huh? Like I said it turned out to be a great investment.”

“You know I’m tired of this habit of—”

“Right, you’re no atm. But like I said… I’m doing something different. Ditching old habits and starting fresh. Soooooo…? Moving on… The other business…?”

Anatolia’s expression softens.

Raven puffs on her cigar, the smoke rising under colorful neon lights.

Smooth sax jazz starts to play in the lounge.

“We’ll… it was titillating.”

Raven grins.

“I mean, Florence was beautiful. But I don’t need to tell you that. The meetings were all so insightful and successful. And –"

“Aaannnd something else worked out, right? Between you two?”

“Why, yes! He was great.”

“Yeh?”

“Yeh. We complemented each other perfectly. He came up with such a good menu concept for the first restaurant, all I had to do was ride off that success with an easy plug for my operations evaluation. Then after that, we finished off with an offer to coordinate their promo event which they accepted enthusiastically. By the end of the trip, we had two new restaurants onboarded as clients.”

They stare at each other.

Raven exhales.

“Y’know, it’d help your sex life if you stopped pretending every romantic interest was strictly business.”

“I know. And then there’s you. You wouldn’t owe me if you took your finances as seriously as you took your flings.”

“Both about to change right? New year coming up.” She raises her cocktail glass and drinks and continues.

“But in my case, the pay-off was more than just multiple orgasms.

For the millionth time. Try to relate:

After the fall-out with the agency and Andy, being jobless… alone… a round-the-world-trip was therapeutic. I could’ve broken down and lost myself but instead I had a death-and-rebirth.

Ten months of lights, tall, sexy buildings and architecture.

Did the obligatory London-Paris.  Romanticized city life.

Roamed through Eastern European cities… Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, then hit Istanbul.

Touched the tip of Islamic North Africa: Rabat, Morocco… Cairo. Hit a couple of hot spots in Asia: Seoul, Tokyo.

Danced my way through the desert down in the middle east: Riyadh, Dubai, Doha -Qatar, Abu Dhabi.

Salivated that hot Arabia romancing.

Finally made a daring little dash in Havana, Cuba before landing back home in insomniac city.”

Anatolia takes a swig of her wine.

Raven continues, “Blowing through my savings and still landing on my feet: with one investor and an idea. What you call “flings”, I call carefully curated relationships… But I’m talking to a wall right now, I mean, somebody like you can’t even take an actual vacation trip to Italy of all places without calling it business slash vacay. Always a mixed bag of nuts. Minus the nuts.”

Anatolia shakes off her fascination, “Well, unlike someone—I got paid.”

“Ya, and unlike you I got mind-blowing sex.”

Cloud puffs of smoke in front of her grinning face.

“Maybe you should try it out some time.”

“Sure. I’ll quit a job, blow my savings on some extensive trip, and leave my bestie hanging so I can spend the last bit I have on a cheaper apartment, and call myself independent on some inspiration I got from some guy I gave filatio.”

“Not just some guy. I have standards. And yes, sure, that’s what you should’ve done. Italy would’ve been better.”

“He’s just a friend.”

“Of course! The poor guy’s friend-zoned. These days, the only thing you make hard is your trust.”

“I know—you know what—you’re right. We did end up sharing a kiss, though. But, it just doesn’t feel right and when it doesn’t feel right I can’t progress.”

“Hopeless romantic.”

“Yeh, and honestly, I don’t mind it. Some people are just slow burners, Raven. I have to take things slow.”

“You have to take things risky.”

She lights a new cigar.

“Can’t even fuck a guy unless you can see yourself as his wife? How do you even live like that?”

“Like what? Like somebody who values relationships and deep connection? And, dare I say to someone like you, love?”

“ha… love.”

A burst of a woman’s laughter from somewhere in the lounge. Sun streaks float through the floor-to-ceiling window.

“It’s amazing we’ve been friends this long to not even speak the same language,” Anatolia says.

“Mm-hm, an amazing girlfriend—you are, and I’m grateful I’ve got you here as I enter this new phase of my life. Despite what I say about you, you being so, well—stiff, helps me stay grounded, despite the ups and downs. And no matter what, you’re always here to help. Despite your annoying lectures you are very understanding.”

Anatolia winks with a smile.

“We on for Trish’s party?” Raven asks.

Anatolia’s smile disappears, “Trish. I’d like to say No. And a Hell No.”

“Not this time, Lia. Tolerate her for my sake. It’s the big dos triple O… New Millenium.”

“What better time to give it a go.”

“What about Resolutions?” Raven asks

“They’re something I find pointless, and you, stupid. But Just for fun… How ‘bout I set yours, and you set mine?”

They grin.

“A dare?” Anatolia is amused.

“Resolutions DARES.”

“Ok. Raven. Your new year’s resolutions. Raking in…40—no, 60! $60k a month as an independent marketing consulting—AND… love. Coming into a love that bends you into a believer. Also, face Andy. Face the man who triggered you to go this radical route. And make peace. Maybe even get a  jump start and invite him to Trish’s party.”

Raven almost chokes on her Martini.

“Oh-kay. Ms. Anatolia. No comment. Except: Your turn. I can become a millionaire and YOU can act like you have… desires. Yehs! Take some time off from being consultant and project manager and instead be professional escort and booty call—FOR at least 6 months, and your client? Not Mr. Right, Mr. WRONG, heck, Mr. DEAD WRONG. And an actual vacation trip for you. A real one, not a hybrid. Who knows, maybe I might tag along, but I’ll be the one on business.”

They both laugh.

"Beauty and business. Sprinkled with romance."

Sax jazz plays in the background.